Listen To The Rain
by Momma-Ran
Summary: Tweek teaches Craig how to listen to the rain.


The boy with pale white skin raises his arms to the cloudy sky. Chin tilted towards the sky, eyes, closed, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. His baggy clothes are dappled then soaked through with rain. All of the tension melts out of the thin frame as his light blond hair darkens and is pressed flat against his skull.

"Rain boy!" A rather high pitched voice calls across the courtyard. "Tweek is a rain freak!" The taunts are followed by snickers.

Craig tears his gaze away from the boy in the rain to glare at the fat boy in the red sweater. His glare goes unnoticed as the fatass continues to make fun of Tweek. Silver eyes flicker back to Tweek to see how he is taking the verbal abuse.

Tweek's arms are lowered to his sides but his face is still tilted upwards. His eyes are closed. Water streams down his face.

Craig wonders if its tears or just rain.

There is a flash of red and suddenly Tweek is sitting on his butt in a puddle. The bewildered expression on his face should be priceless, but Craig can't summon the usual amusement. He watches while the other students laugh at the soaking wet boy. "Rain boy, rain boy!"

Craig runs a hand through his shaggy black hair. He looks away from the scene. Then back to Tweek who is just sitting there taking it with a small smile on his face. Suddenly, the noirette is annoyed. With a decisive sigh, Craig walks into the middle of the throng. They part for him, because he is King.

Tweek's odd yellow eyes fixate on the King. He smiles, showing off sharp white teeth.

With two hands and a hard shove, Craig pushes Cartman away. The boy in the red sweater falls into the puddle, getting everyone else even wetter. Craig is almost positive the fatass is crying but its imposisible to tell with the raining falling. To the blond boy, Craig extends his hand.

Tweek doesn't hesitate to accept the help up. He yelps a bit when Craig pulls him away from the group of laughing teenagers. There is no protest when Craig takes the blond to the staff bathroom and locks the door behind them.

Neither of them speaks while Craig undreses the blond. He puts the wet clothes in the sink so they don't make the floor any more slippery than it already is. Twisting his backpack around, the noirette King digs through it for dry clothes.

"You're mad at me." Tweek accepts the dry clothes.

Craig shakes his head. "No I'm not." Silver eyes watch the boy cover his pale skin with a warm long sleeve knit and a pair of jeans. "Aren't you embarrassed?"

"Why would I be embarrassed? They are calling me rain boy. That means every time it rains they are going to think of me. Maybe they'll wonder why I'm called that. Maybe they will wonder what's so special about the rain. And they'll stop everything and just listen. Maybe then they will know." Tweek lets out a laugh that sounds like music. It baffles Craig. "Then again, you don't know much about that either."

"Much about what?" Craig pulls Tweek to him, sharing his body heat to warm the blond.

Tweek nuzzles Craig's neck. "The rain." He yawns, signialing to the noirette that they need to be getting home. As much as Tweek loves rainy days, the blond has trouble staying awake after a thorough soaking like the one he just had. "Listen to it with me."

Craig leaves Tweek's wet clothes in the sink. They will get them out of the lost and found tomorrow. He unlocks the door and they leave. Craig's arm is around the slender waist, holding the blond close to him. By the time they make it back outside, the rain has stopped. After a long silence, Craig gives in. "I will."

"Hey, did you check the weather?" Tweek's voice crackles over the phone.

Craig peers out his bedroom window. The sky is turning black. All day its been dark outside and the smell of rain has been heavy in the air. "Yeah."

"Good. I'll be over in a few." The line goes dead before the noirette can ask if Tweek meant a few minutes or a few hours or a few days. He trots downstairs in sweatpants and a hoodie to wait for the blond on the couch.

A gust of cool air and the creak of the door announces Tweek's arrival. Dressed in leggings and an oversized long sleeve shirt, the blond looks more feminine than usual. He doesn't hesitate to go to Craig, standing in front of the noirette.

Craig sits up to plant a gentle kiss on Tweek's soft lips. Predictibly, the blond tastes like coffee. Tweek's responding smile melts the King's heart. The noirette allows himself to be led through his kitchen to the back yard. Things have changed since he was a child – meaning that his father finally got around to building the porch his mother always wanted.

They settle down in a spot that is least likely to get them wet. Not even Tweek wants to risk the rain at night when his chances of getting sick are higher. There is a foot of space between their bodies but their fingers are laced together. No sooner than they get as comfortable as possible on a hard bench, does the sky open up.

As he sits on the hard wooden bench beneath the relative dryness of his back porch, Craig stares at the sky and imagines a pride of huge white lions battling. Thunder roars overhead, angry as a lion who has caught intruders on his territory. The slap of rain hitting the ground sounds like paw steps readying for battle. A white pelt streaks across the sky. There is no wind but the cold rain brings goosebumps to Craig's flesh. As the battle overhead comes to it's conclusion, the rain comes down lighter, the thunder is quieter. A breeze picks up, amplifying the fresh scent of clean wetness.

Tweek doesn't look at the sky. He sits with his head down, knees drawn to his chest, staring at a puddle forming. His golden eyes look brown in the dim lighting as they watch the ripples dance endlessly. Craig can't even begin to imagine what the other boy is thinking.

Another roar of thunder and two long flashes of lightning startle the noirette. Craig resumes his observing of the thunderstorm.

"Are you scared?" A quick glance at Tweek confirms that the blond is still looking at the puddle.

Craig opens his mouth to say no. Then he closes it again. "A little." Craig smiles, "It's powerful."

Beside him, Craig feels more than sees Tweek nod agreement. "Yeah. We could die out here."

"Way to be an optimist." Silver eyes look out across his yard but there isn't much interesting happening. His gaze lowers to the ground and Craig watches puddles forming. They could be lakes, rivers, streams. To insects they probably are.

The storm stops an hour after it began. Retreating clouds give way to the dark blue of the sky. Water drops with a pleak-plop-plop-pleak sound. Crickets begin to chirp. The neighbours air conditioner turns on. It's a strange, mechanical sound amidst the organic ones. A breeze ruffles Craig's black hair and chills his bare feet.

Beside him comes the sound of Tweek popping his jaw out of place. It's a bad habit of the blond's. Tweek isn't staring at the puddle anymore, his attention is on the sky. Overhead, air planes rumble. Another air conditioner turns on. The glow from the television appears, -an alien blue glow- on the stark white support pole that keeps the porch roof up.

Only when Craig sighs does he realise he can't hear Tweek's breathing. He looks at Tweek and notices the blond looking back. Tweeks eyes seem to hold the wisdom of a thousand years. Craig drops his gaze to his bare feet, toes curled over the edge of the wooden bench. His tailbone is really starting to hurt. The humidity almost makes him want to take his hoodie off but the wind changes his mind. From somewhere to his left comes the flapping of wings; a bird taking flight.

Tweek sneezes suddenly.

With a smile, Craig squeezes the pale hand. "Let's go inside." The King stands, pulling the other boy to his feet as well. They tip toe through the cold water that has pooled on the porch. Before going inside, Craig takes one last look around. He doesn't want to go inside to the heat and mechanical glow.

Tweek is the one who opens the sliding glass door. A knowing smile spreads across his pale face. "I'm glad you understand."

Following him inside, Craig is the one who shuts out the wet world outside. "Understand what?"

The blond leads the way to the stairs and beyond that, Craig's bedroom. He waits until the door is closed before going over and opening the window. Tweek leans out of it, face to the sky.

The rain-scented air hits Craig like a ton of bricks. He feels a little giddy inside. With light footsteps, the noirette approaches Tweek and wraps his arms around the slender waist. His cheek rests against soft light blond hair.

"How to listen to the rain."

* * *

><p><strong>Just something I came up with this monsoon season. I love the rain. <strong>


End file.
